


More than Almost

by Half_Fallen



Series: Crossfire [1]
Category: Icerde - TV Series, icerde
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, brief - Freeform, just these guys sorting out their differences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12684216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_Fallen/pseuds/Half_Fallen
Summary: He tries not to think of the fact that Sarp is quite rough around the edges, that he is stubborn at best and does defy Mert’s every word. It makes Mert infinitely angry, so much he swears he could bash that thick skull of his to the wall. Everything about Sarp makes him angry, but the fact that he likes that thick skull he is about to bash to the wall makes him furious.





	More than Almost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angry_Soldat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angry_Soldat/gifts).



> This story is a gift to my amazing little sister, Angry_Soldat. Love you, you little shit.

“ _Ablla, do you want to buy a handkerchief?” A ten year old Mert asks squirting his eyes as the cold wind drains the blood from his face. It's the middle of December and even though there's no snow on the ground, the weather is merciless enough to punish them when Coscun can't. He buries his left hand deeper in his thin worn out coat as his right one is raised towards the woman._

 

_He hasn't sold anything for the third day in a row and he knows that Coscun won't feed him if he doesn't deserve it. The woman isn't as kind as to at least say 'no' and she walks away giving Mert a dirty look and Mert's stomach grumbles._

 

_He'd be begging if he wasn't so proud._

 

_Mert continues walking._

 

_Coscun isn't so fond of the idea of his of_ _**them** _ _using what's made for the costumer, it's one of his many rules, and one he got beaten for as well, so Mert wipes his nose with his too-short-sleeve and keeps going forward. His eyes scan for possible buyers._

 

_It is tough selling in these conditions. The wind and the cold always make them sick, that’s why Mert hates winter. Many of the other kids are down with the flu and Coscun won’t do anything about it unless it is lethally serious. Sometimes he won’t even feed them._

 

_Starving is a thing Coscun does when he doesn’t want to leave any marks._

 

_Two days ago he told them, the remaining kids, that he would get medicine for the others if they sold enough tissues, but it is the third day in a row and Mert is getting nervous. He knows that the flu is just around the corner waiting for him and then there isn’t gonna be any hope for him left._

 

_So many years in the streets have taught him that he should trust no one. Everyone betrays you in the end._

 

_That afternoon he walks faster and begs louder. He cannot allow the others to be punished because of him._

 

 

Life with Celal is like a fairytale, the ones he would tell the other kids before sleep when Coscun wasn't around and they the time to talk. It is warm, there is plenty to eat and Celal is so kind he sometimes can almost think that he loves the boy.

 

He wouldn’t go as far to believe that his ‘fairytale’ is real, though. He isn’t that naïve.

 

A life of starvation has taught him to be careful and even though there is plenty to eat he is always cautious and waiting for that dreadful moment when he will be asked to leave. He stores food whenever he can in places that no one knows so that he can eat it later. It is a thing he is good at: hiding.

 

A few months later, when Celal is made aware of Mert’s little secret he demands the truth and Mert gives it to him. Weirdly enough Celal doesn’t punish him and in fact he can almost swear that what he sees in the man’s eyes is pain and understanding. But almost isn’t good enough so that afternoon he skips his meals. He doesn’t deserve it, he hadn’t been good enough for it.

 

 

 

 

The only person in the world that was aware of Mert’s ‘techniques’ was Melek. He couldn’t hide anything from her. Hell, she knew her better than he knew himself.

 

She would always try to talk him out of it and she would always succeed.

 

Mert hated her for it.

 

 

 

Coffee was something he grew attached to as he was growing up. It was sweet and warm and could _almost_ fulfill that emptiness inside his chest where his soul was supposed to be. It could _almost_ will away the desire to eat. It made the punishments almost acceptable.

 

Mert slowly came to realize that _almost_ was acceptable and that became almost _good_.

 

 

 

Sometimes when he felt that he had done okay he would reward himself by finding the nearest restaurant or diner and eat until he couldn’t move. In most cases he would throw it up later, but to him it was worth it.

 

Sometimes when he had the time and the nerves to psychoanalyze himself, (something he deemed highly unmanly, God forbid he’d admit it to anyone. EVER!) he would find real reason behind his trips to the store to get Musa pie after he had done him a favor. He was using food as a currency, doing the exact same thing Coscun had done with him and it was repulsive. He hated the fact that this was the one thing he knew of, and he despised the fact that his subconscious wouldn’t let this ‘harmless’ observation flow in itself with Mert being oblivious to it.

 

After those nights he would drink until he would forget his own name.

 

In the mornings he would remember.

 

 

 

Fusun Teze’s diner was one of Mert’s favorite places on earth. He didn’t know if it was because of the amazing food or the woman that made the place so inviting. On the first day there Eylem commented on his eating habits. He blamed it on the years spent in the orphanage.

 

Fusun Teze had basically no one. Her husband had died in prison and his good for nothing son was serving Mert’s father after having spent a year in prison. She was completely alone struggling with the diner, rent and life in general. She reminded Mert a little of himself, but the difference was that in the end of the day she had Eylem while Mert had an empty apartment with absent furniture and unhealthy amounts of coffee.

 

He makes a mental note to protect the woman at all costs as he swallows yet another piece of pie.

 

 

 

The first time he meets Fusun’s son is not the first time he sees the guy. He had been around school all the time and his ‘graduation ceremony’ wasn’t something that went exactly unnoticed, plus Mert was observing of everyone serving his father, but this encounter stuns him in a way he won’t admit to anyone.

 

Mert likes to blame his lack of senses after being knocked out or even the slight Stockholm Syndrome feeling (psychology be damned!) for those warm fuzzy feelings in his chest and those three beats his heart skipped when the man, Sarp, shot himself in the shoulder to save his life.

 

While driving Sarp’s car he likes to think it is because he is doing it for Fusun Teze or even repaying Sarp for saving him from that sticky situation. But as he looks into the rearview mirror (and he catches himself doing that a lot) he notices that he enjoys looking at the man’s face and he is in fact quite attractive.

 

After that night he doesn’t eat for two days.

 

 

 

Mert confessing to anyone that he is gay it’s an off limit situation. It is the one and only thing he has kept from Melek, the one and only thing he doesn’t like thinking about and the one and only thing he doesn’t plan on acting upon.

 

He wills himself not to think about hard jaws and abs and rough lips as he finds himself yet another pretty thing to pass the night with.

 

He certainly cannot will himself to think of something else as he sees Sarp with Melek.

 

He tries to think it is because this man is getting near his sister, and Mert would kill without thinking anyone to dares touch as much as a hair of hers.

 

But he knows for a fact that he cannot lie to himself and that his ‘jealousy’ (he would never address it as such) it is harmlessly directed towards his sister.

 

 

 

Sarp is observant; Mert noticed as much while following the guy. Everything he does is well thought, calculated. It almost reminds Mert of himself while in the office.

 

That’s what bothers him. The guy could be a snitch and Melek and Celal baba could be at risk, yet here he is: following the guy around and finding his sight satisfying.

 

He tries not to think of the fact that Sarp is quite rough around the edges, that he is stubborn at best and does defy Mert’s every word. It makes Mert infinitely angry, so much he swears he could bash that thick skull of his to the wall. Everything about Sarp makes him angry, but the fact that he likes that thick skull he is about to bash to the wall makes him furious.

 

With Sarp it feels like he is always on edge, like an insect being inspected.

 

 

 

 

 

He tries to talk Melek out of it, tries to tell her that this is madness while making her recall the last man that stood too close. She won’t listen.

 

She is head over heels for the man. The same man he is trying so hard not to share any feelings towards. ‘ _Good job with that!’_ , his brain tells him.

 

Mert feels constantly frustrated, not even coffee will help.

 

That night he goes to the bar and picks himself a brunette that looks nothing like Sarp.

 

 

 

 

He manages to escape out of that fridge. He is free, free to get rid of this man once and for all. He can again have all of Celal baba’s undivided attention. He can stop worrying about Melek’s safety.

 

He turns back and opens the door.

 

There is something about that man, about that stupid, tall man that looks down on him all the time. About that idiotic human being that defies his patience. About that gigantic moron whose ego is bigger than the universe. About that sarcastic piece of shit standing right there in the corner looking smaller than ever in that enormous cold room. His skin has no difference with the meat hanging around them and Mert fears that if he continues with this any longer he might as well hang Sarp in one of these meat hangers.

 

He makes his way to Sarp freezing and almost convulsing, and gets Sarp out of there.

 

In the evening he celebrates for making it out alive.

 

 

It is Umut’s birthday. Mert has been around enough to know who Umut is. He has quite an impact on people as well, stronger than onions if you ask Mert.

 

He didn’t want to be here, but Eylem was persistent. When he sees Melek walk into the room he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

 

The is something about the way Sarp eats his food: cool, taking his sweet time. Mert notices how his fingers hold a fork that looks too small in his grip and how his enormous jaws munch the food unhurriedly.

 

It’s the farthest thing from Mert.

 

The air, however, is tacky and static around them. There is a strong radiance of anger coming from Sarp and Mert knows it is only a matter of time before the man in front of him explodes.

 

Boy, what and explosion it is.

 

Sarp makes him leave the house and it is humiliating at best. Sarp makes sure of it.

 

While showing himself to the door Mert suddenly understands his position.

 

He is alone.

 

There is nobody by his side. Not Celal baba, not Melek, not Teze Fusun and absolutely not Sarp. Melek has always found a way to fit in. Hell, she was the reason Celal baba took him in the first place. Mert was nothing but a burden. An orphan, a homeless, a good for nothing.

 

Sometimes he wondered if Sarp knew what went through his mind. He would make sure Mert would suffer, long and hard, before putting a bullet in his brain.

 

Maybe he knows and Teze Fusun is in the way.

 

She would search for him, ask where he is. Worry about him.

 

Right?

 

Mert sobs and an inhuman laughter erupts from his chest. Pathetic! He is utterly pathetic.

 

He speeds home, breaking a few laws in the process and proudly not giving a fuck. Right now he is long past that.

 

He doesn’t know what it is, though, that makes him feel this desperate. The fact that he is alone, of the fact that Sarp was the one to show him this.

 

 

Sarp closes up on him and Mert’s back hits the wall. He can faintly recognize the smell of alcohol in Sarp’s breath and his back straightens as looks up to the older man. This man is in Mert’s house and Mert doesn’t have the faintest idea why the gigantic moron is here.

 

“I’ve had it with you!” Sarp starts in a very serious tone that makes Mert expect a punch.

 

Sarp comes closer, his face just inches away from Mert’s. His eyes scan Mert’s face; his eyes, the bridge of his nose, his lips. It suddenly makes the room very hot and Mert breathes a little harsher through his nose.

 

Sarp’s face is wrinkled in a frown, eyes cold and merciless as ever, lips tightened into a thin line. His right hand, formed into a punch, makes its way upwards very slowly. Then slower, it lays flat into the wall beside Mert’s head. The man is so close he can smell it. And it is a divine smell.

 

“I’ve so had it with you!” Sarp repeats again and Mert feels the urge to interrupt.

 

“You’ve said that once.” He breathes through his nose and tries not to think about how Sarp’s breath tingles the bridge of his nose.

 

“I’ve had it with your attitude! I’ve had it with your cockiness! I’ve had it with you, and I’ve had it with your pretty little face appearing everywhere I turn.” Oka- what?

 

“Woah lan, you need to buy me dinner first.” Mert retorts laughing and through his own ears it sounds strained and awkward. Sarp continues to stare down at him and this time Mert gulps. His heart is beating so hard he is afraid Sarp can hear it.

 

“I’ll take you to the moon and back if you wish just-”

 

“Just what?” Mert asks, because he has to know. He cannot be misreading the situation this gravely, can he?

 

“I don’t know.” Sarp says lowly and it sounds like a whine. “You drive me insane. From the first time I saw you, I just…” His breath comes out shaky. “You’re so tiny, so pretty with those big round eyes and puffy cheeks. Perfect. All for me!” His right hand leaves the wall and touches that strand of hair in front of Mert’s face. Mert’s breath hitches in his throat. He dodges the touch.

 

“Slow down, devram. I am a dude. I think you’re mistaking me with that lawyer girl.” He tries to push Sarp away, get away from him, but Sarp pushes him back to the wall and gets even closer.

 

“No, I’m not.” Sarp looks him straight in the eye, like he’s inspecting a thing rather than a human being. “It has always been you, from the very beginning. I’ve seen the way you look at me, I know what’s inside that pretty head of yours.” His hand comes to rest in Mert’s throat and Mert closes his eyes.

 

“You’re mistaken. There’s no such thing.” He tries to breathe steadily. In. Out. In. Out. In.

 

“Oh, am I?” Sarp cocks up an eyebrow, smirking. “So you’re saying that you don’t stare at me when you think I am not paying attention, that you don’t go over at my mom’s hoping to get a sight of me?” He sneaks his free hand behind Mert’s waist and pushes his own body towards Mert’s, knocking his breath out, all in a fast motion.

 

“That you don’t get off to the thought of me holding you like this?”

 

“Sarp!” Mert gasps, the hand weighting on his throat making it harder to breathe.

 

“Do you leave your hair this long because of me?” He moves his hand from his throat to his hair, curling it around some strands and tugging. “Tell me! Do you want me to pull them like this?”

 

Mert feels like he is going to faint any minute now. Sarp is hot and hard against him.

 

“Sarp-“

 

“Let me tell you a secret, _devram._ ” Sarp’s head draws closer, lips brushing against Mert’s ear. “I’m going to wreck you!” Mert moans at that.

 

Sarp kisses him and it is how he has always imagined. Heavenly. Lips brush against lips roughly, Sarp’s beard scratching Mert’s chin and upper lip. Mert opens to the kiss and Sarp takes control of the situation immediately, setting a fast and needy pace, driving Mert insane. The arm around his waist tightens as his other hand grips his hair tighter and Sarp breaks the kiss.

 

“If I’d known you’d be like this, I would have broken into your house earlier.”

 

“What about that lawyer girl?” Mert asks even though it ruins the mood entirely, but he _has_ to know. After all Melek is his sister and he’d kill Sarp, even in this condition, if he had hurt Melek in any way.

 

“She knows.” What?

 

“What?”

 

“She is sweet and everything, but I’m not exactly a ladies man, as you can notice. I couldn’t hurt her like that, so I told her the truth. She took it fairly well to be honest.”

 

“Don’t tell me you became best friends and went shopping together!” Mert retorts and Sarp pulls his hair hard this time, making his skull hit the wall.

 

“Watch your tongue with me, boy!”

 

“How about I watch yours?”

 

 

 

The early morning’s sun beams make Mert curse himself to the hell and back for not closing those damn blinds. The room feels hotter than usual and there is something, no, someone holding him from behind.

 

His eyes bulge open.

 

Sarp is sleeping peacefully by his side. He hasn’t left. Even after the last night’s happenings, he hasn’t left. He tries to shift as quietly as he can, but the arm around his waist tightens and pulls him closer to Sarp.

 

“Morning.” He grumbles, his voice rough from sleep. I does wonders to Mert’s ears. He wants to admit that out loud, to turn his head and kiss the man. Instead he asks:

 

“Why haven’t you left?”

 

“You mean to make you breakfast. Because I can do that right now-“

 

“No, I mean, why haven’t you left yet? Everyone does, everyone.” This makes Sarp raise from the bed and look down at Mert’s face incredibly.

 

“You thought I’d leave you? After last night?” It sounds like Sarp hasn’t thought of that, ever, and it confuses Mert.

 

“Everyone does.”

 

“I won’t.” Sarp says. “Look at me! I won’t! I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but I would never leave you unless you wanted me too. Didn’t I prove that to you?” It is too early to have an argument, even for Mert so he sighs instead.

 

“Yes.” Mert responds, but just to avoid the discussion. Sarp is going to leave him just like anybody else, it is just a matter of time.

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“I said no. I don’t want you like this. I don’t know what made you have so many trust issues, but I don’t do things like that. I’m not going to bail on you the first chance given.” Mert closes his eyes and turns his head away, but Sarp is quick to react.

 

“Hey, look at me. I know last night I was a little taken away and things went the way they went, but believe me I don’t regret it and I don’t want you to regret it either. We can make it work, whatever this is. We will make it work. Now I am going to make some breakfast and you are going to eat it because I’m a wonderful cook. Ok?”

 

“Ok.” Mert says and for once in his life things were more than acceptable, more than _almost._

 

 


End file.
